The Doomsday Conspiracy

Over the horizon out of sight, the Italian Navy cruiser Stromboli was stalking the Halcyon.

When Susan appeared for breakfast, she looked pale and drawn.

“Did you sleep well, darling?” Monte asked.

“Fine,” Susan said.

So they didn’t share the same cabin! Robert felt an unreasonable sense of pleasure from that knowledge. He and Susan had always slept in the same bed, her naked, nubile body spooning into his. Jesus, I’ve got to stop thinking like this.

Ahead of the Halcyon, on the starboard bow, was a fishing boat from the Marseilles fleet, bringing in a fresh catch.

“Would you like some fish for lunch?” Susan asked.

Both men nodded. “Fine.”

They were almost abreast of the fishing boat.

As Captain Simpson walked by, Robert asked, “What is our ETA to Marseilles?”

“We’ll be there in two hours, Mr Smith. Marseilles is an interesting port. Have you ever been there?”

“It is an interesting port,” Robert said.

In the communications room, at SIFAR, the two colonels were reading the message that had just come in from the Halcyon. It read simply: “Now.”

“What’s the Halcyon’s position?” barked Colonel Cesar.

“They’re two hours out of Marseilles, heading for the port.”

“Order the Stromboli to overtake and board her immediately.”

Thirty minutes later, the Italian Navy cruiser Stromboli was closing in on the Halcyon. Susan and Monte were at the fantail of the yacht, watching the warship racing toward them.

A voice came over the cruiser’s loudspeaker. “Ahoy, Halcyon. Heave to. We’re coming aboard.”

Susan and Monte exchanged a look. Captain Simpson came hurrying toward them.

“Mr Banks …”

“I heard it. Do as they say. Stop the engines.”

“Yes, sir.”

A minute later, the pulse of the engines stopped, and the yacht lay still in the water. Susan and her husband watched as armed sailors from the Navy cruiser were lowered into a dinghy.

Ten minutes later a dozen sailors were swarming up the ladder of the Halcyon.

The naval officer in charge, a lieutenant commander, said, “I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Banks. The Italian government has reason to believe that you are harbouring a fugitive. We have orders to search your ship.”

Susan stood there watching, as the sailors started spreading out, moving along the deck and going below to search the cabins.

“Don’t say anything.”

“But …”

“Not a word.”

They stood on the deck in silence, watching the search go on.

Thirty minutes later they were assembled again on the main deck.

“There’s no sign of him, Commander,” a sailor reported.

“You’re certain of that?”

“Absolutely, sir. There are no passengers aboard, and we have identified each member of the crew.”

The Commander stood there a moment, frustrated. His superiors had made a serious mistake.

He turned to Monte and Susan and Captain Simpson. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you. We’ll leave now.” He turned to go.

“Commander …”

“Yes?”

“The man you’re looking for got away on a fishing boat half an hour ago. You should have no trouble picking him up.”

Five minutes later, the Stromboli was speeding toward Marseilles. The Lieutenant Commander had every reason to be pleased with himself. Half the governments of the world had been pursuing Commander Robert Bellamy, and he was the one who had found him. There could be a nice promotion in this, he thought.

From the bridge, the navigation officer called out, “Commander, could you come up here, please?”

Had they spotted the fishing boat already? The Lieutenant Commander hurried up to the bridge.

“Look, sir!”

The Commander took one look and his heart sank. In the distance ahead, covering the horizon, was the entire Marseilles fishing fleet, a hundred identical boats returning to port. There was no way in the world to identify the one Commander Bellamy was on.

Chapter Forty-Seven

He stole a car in Marseilles. It was a Fiat 1800 Spider convertible, parked on a dimly lit side street. It was locked and there was no key in the ignition. No problem. LooKing around to make sure he was not observed, Robert made a rip in the canvas top and shoved his hand inside to unlock the door. He slid inside the car, reached under the dashboard and pulled out all the wires of the ignition switch. He held the thick red wire in one hand while, one by one, he touched the other wires to it until the dashboard lit up. He hooked two wires together, and touched the remaining ones to the two wires hooked together until the engine began to turn over. He pulled out the choke and the engine roared into life. A moment later, Robert was on his way to Paris-

His first priority was to get hold of Li Po. When he reached the Paris suburbs, he stopped at a phone booth. He telephoned Li’s apartment and heard the familiar voice on the answering machine: Zao, mes amis … Je regrette que je ne sois pas chez moi mais il n’yapas du danger queje ne repondepas a votre coup de telephone. Prenez garde que vous attendiez le signal de I’appareil.

Good morning. I regret I am not home, but there is no danger of my not returning your call. Be careful to wait for the tone. Robert counted out the words in their private code. The key words were: Regret … danger … careful.

The phone was tapped, of course. Li had been expecting his call, and this was his way of warning Robert. He had to get to him as quickly as possible. He would use another code they had employed in the past.